Spread your legs. She’s forty and fragile. With prayers she waits as the embryos are implanted. A cherub face darts in her mind as she shuts her eyes.

Spread your legs. Spread them wide. For you are cursed with this entitlement to pleasure, pain and imposed agony; cursed by history and biology, your heart and mind will always be secondary. You are born with skin, bones, hair and smiles and yet your destiny resides within that space between your thighs- a fleshy cavern, a wonderland, an abyss of elasticity.